Remnant DxD

by Dessel Ordo

When an 11 year old Jaune Arc wandered out into Forever Fall hoping to become Remnants youngest huntsman, that should have been it for the foolish kid. Luckily a passing devil saw potential in him and re-incarnated him. Now, 6 years later House Bael has sent him to attend Beacon Academy to learn more about his homeworld, and establish his own peerage. What could possibly go wrong?

29. Chapter 29: Chaos I-From Below

So, I don't own RWBY or Highschool DxD, and don't make a single penny on this. Gonna jump right in, and hope all of you wonderful people enjoy the chapter!

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Everything is fuzzy and heavy.

Ruby tries to move, to sit up–why is she laying down?–But something is holding her in place. What, what happened?

"–would be sacrilege to—"

[[She remembers patrolling the perimeter of the warehouse Doctor Oobleck had chosen for them to camp out in for the night. It had been her and Weiss and Jeanne and Connla and Jeanne had whipped out a sword-dragon! So Cool! Then they'd spent the rest of the patrol talking about mystical spears and gods and magic and other worlds and SACRED GEARS! Eeeeeeee—]]

"–the altar we have here is temporary. Barely passable as one! If we do use her, then we should send her back to Menagerie, to do it properly!"

Ugh, why is everything so sore? She tries to move again. Yup, those are ropes. Someone tied her up. And put her in Auric-neutralizing handcuffs.

[[She remembers getting back to camp ahead of Connla, after he'd broken off from the group, and that when the dour-looking hero had returned, Professor Oobleck had singled him out to dissect his passions and motivations in the Professor's own roundabout way, with Jeanne having been kinda blatant about listening in while Arthur and Le Fay sat off on a comfy-ish looking bit of rubble together. Le Fay tapping away on her scroll while her brother had seemed to be either meditating or resting. Ruby and the rest of her team had had a nice talk while everyone else was distracted. Connla had been keyed up the rest of the evening, and Blake wouldn't stop side-eying him, like she didn't trust him or something. She probably would have missed that if it weren't for Weiss helping her get better picking up social cues. And from what she could glean from Connla's subtler body language, the feeling was mutual.

She understood Blake and Weiss' misgivings, though. The world was a much scarier place than any of them had ever thought it was just a few months ago. Her two friends had even more reason than most not to trust others from the get-go, or just accept things for what they seem to be. But Ruby was also grateful that Jeanne, Le Fay and their new friends had come to help. They weren't alone. She wasn't alone. She'd met people who could help her become a hero, like Mom had been. Weiss might think that their new friends are a little suspicious and the world they had been opening their eyes to is too dangerous–a whole other world, one without Grimm, who'd have thought that was possible?

Not that those fears aren't unfounded, what with the dragons and Devils and evil angels to be found in that other world–their own world, Remnant's supposed gods turning out to be real, with one even probably being responsible for the Grimm!–Jeanne, Connla and the rest had been telling them about so much. But more than that, their new friends know how to deal with all of the things that are new and scary. Just like her and all the other Huntresses and Huntsmen know how to deal with Grimm! All they need to do is make sure that Jeanne's people and Remnant's people don't start off fighting, that they all see that they're on the same side, and friends, and everyone will be better and safer and happier. Of course Weiss is scared, she's kind of scared too, but you have to be scared first to be brave; and as Team Leader it was her job to make those judgement calls, when it was safe to take the leap, and when they needed to back off. They'd just have to take it one step at a time, make sure they get it right, and then both worlds will be a better place. And Ruby Rose found that to be a very comforting thought.

And...maybe she can get someone to teach her more about Sacred Gears along the way! She really, really, really wants a chance to check out as many of those as she can get her eyes and maybe hands and hopefully even some tools on!

Anyway…

Connla had beaten Ruby to the punch when Professor Oobleck had asked who wanted first watch though, then Blake had volunteered to take it with him, glaring holes in the still sunglasses-clad guy. Which, okay, it is kind of hard to trust a guy who literally never takes his sunglasses off. Still Weiss and Jeanne had been talking about–eugh–fencing techniques.

Which, to be fair, Ruby had been maybe-kinda-sorta hogging the blonde hero convincing her to try to get more creative with her Blade Blacksmith, and maybe get her some pointers on how Jeanne could be more efficient with it. And, okay, she had just been guessing and she really still doesn't know enough about Sacred Gears to give advice, but but but! She might have maybe-kinda-sorta improvised a lot of what she suggested from manga and comics. Oh, it was just such a perfect chance for a nonstop twenty four-seven swordy heaven! How could she not try to help! It was the perfect beginning of a beautiful friendship and–

Focus, Ruby!

The fencers had volunteered jointly for second watch and Ruby'd been super grumpy about it until she remembered-again-that she was the Leader and needed to make sure her team was happy and safe.

So when no one had spoken up for the third watch, Ruby'd volunteered, and Le Fay–her pointy hat gone to wherever it disappeared to when she isn't being all magicky–had offered to join her. It had been nice. Sure, they were both tired but they talked, some, about normal, not crazy world-changing stuff.

And then they were—Sort of. Le Fay explained she and Arthur had come from the historically famous, secret-but-actually-not noble House of Pendragon. She mentioned how neither Arthur or herself had a Sacred Gear, she was just an 'ordinary' Magician who grew up with the duty of being the Pendragon household's mage. Similar to Weiss, Le Fay was happy and proud of her heritage but not the legacy and duty that came with it, apparently having found it unfulfilling. It hadn't been all bad, with one of her teachers having been especially dear to her, teaching her much; even inspiring her to find a place at the Golden Dawn. Things hadn't always gone smoothly, not that the blonde seemed to have any particular person or event she dwelled on-though Le Fay's morose expression had spoken of unsaid hurt and loss during much of her recounting of her time there-with the blonde eventually concluding that the association wasn't her calling. After leaving the Golden Dawn she had followed her brother across the world, with her parents' secret blessing, on great adventures so that Arthur could prove himself worthy of wielding Caliburn.

Ruby had talked about her own family history when Le Fay got quiet. About her first hero, Summer Rose and why she didn't really know or remember all that much about Mom. About how Dad had been sad for a very long time. About how Yang had to step up and take care of her for the longest time. About life on Patch, and how all the other kids had been so jealous about her being related to not just one, but two famous Huntsmen. How that's all anyone really ever wanted to get to know her for for the longest time, and expected her to just be, to be better because of it even when she only ever just wanted to be normal and to fit in.

Then Ruby talked about how her uncle, Qrow Branwen, had started training her, when he could, and became her hero. Not that she doesn't look up to her Mom or want to be like her any less–impossible as it may sound, and as confusing and snarled up in shameful feelings she doesn't want to admit to feeling, even in her mind. Especially when it comes to how her sister actually knew Mom and was apparently more like her–Outgoing, decisive and confident. Though Mom didn't have her temper. At least that's what people said–just that Uncle Qrow's here and now, and helped her get to be more than what all the other kids and adults that weren't him and Dad thought she should be.

They'd talked about their friends, Ruby's old one back at Signal and the new ones she'd been making at Beacon; Le Fay went on about her contacts from Golden Dawn that she still kept in touch with, and the other Heroes from all over the world she and Arthur got to spend their time with. Although the young Huntress-in-Training noticed, sadly enough, that the blonde only ever described them as associates or contacts, not friends. Ruby went on about the trouble she and Yang had gotten into figuring out their Semblances, usually in the form of property damage for her sister, and close calls for herself. The fact that the worst incidents had somehow always happened around Uncle Qrow sent Le Fay into an uncontrollable giggling fit, though she'd tried–in vain–to cover it up. Ruby didn't see how being mortified in front of her Uncle was all that funny. Le Fay, in turn, had talked about all the trouble and mischief Arthur got into while trying to figure out Caliburn on his own, outside of his lessons, in his youth. As Le Fay had outpaced her teacher's plans for her, she had struck out on her own on more than one occasion, causing a few mishaps and accidents herself. The younger girl even told Ruby that once the mission was over, she'd lend her one of her older books to check for a magical affinity. The blonde Magician also showed the Team leader her magic staff, which, much to Ruby's shock and disapproval, has no name. The silver-eyed girl decided to pick one out on behalf of her new friend, though she hadn't told her that right then.

Le Fay had started asking after Ruby's eyes–she'd noticed the girl looking at them an awful lot while they chatted their watch away–when Zwei had started whining. So she went to let him off his leash to do his business and Le Fay said she'd make sure nothing snuck up on their teams while she was distracted.

So Ruby had let Zwei out, then he'd run off after something, and there'd been a hole in the ground and—]]

Ruby finally manages to get her eyes to listen to her brain and open for her, and is greeted by a sideways world, layed on her side the way she is. The concrete is cold and dirty, and the room she's in is covered in dust and grime and the door looks like a misused locker room or storage shed. The light is dim and flickering, but she can make out the two arguing figures well enough. Both of them are clearly White Fang, though the uniforms are different. The trousers are still plain white, but both mens tops are more akin to robes than the uniform shirts the other White Fang soldiers wear, with wide, plunging v's cut into them from their shoulders down to just above their navels. Both of them have wide belts, though the larger of the two's belts is a strange weave of... Are those tails? Horse, dog, cat, the shorter Fang's waist is coated in the appendages.

Brothers above—Okay, no. Calm down, Ruby...

Ruby shakes her head, hopefully not enough to draw the attention of the terrorists. Their robe-like tops have billowing sleeves, and their masks are narrow things, barely covering their eyes, precariously perched above their noses, with a massive swath of bright, mulch-colored feathers extending up and back from them, forming a crest of sorts on either man, and concealing the top of both of their heads. The taller of the two has a sort of bracelet on either hand, and Ruby really can't make out what it is until he reaches to his belt and pulls a strange, jagged obsidian dagger free. She glances away almost as soon as her eyes came to rest on the small weapon, a burning, pulsing, crushing pain having sprung to life behind her eyes and between her temples as soon as she had laid her eyes on it.

She hadn't been paying attention to what they had been saying, but both of them are pretty mad now. The one with his knife out starts flailing around with it, it's kind of close now so she flares her Aura, just to be safe.

The plain stone knife presses on her Aura for a moment, then passes through it and knicks her skin.

And something just feels wrong about that cut, and her entire arm now and she has no idea why. Trying to distract herself she looks closer at the looming Faunus' wrist and–Oh Brothers, those are tongues his bracelet is made of–the outermost layer of the grisly bracelet is a snake's tongue with dry blood still flaking off of its base. And there are teeth hanging from the bracelet too, and the other Faunus has antlers and horns dangling from his belt that she can see now and–She looks away, she can't stand the sight of what they're wearing, what they have to have done anymore!

Was this why Blake left…? Why didn't she say anything!? They need to be stopped! She needs to stop them!

The door slams open, and Roman Torchwick strides in, that girl with the weird eyes and parasol from last time half a step behind him. Ruby never thought she'd be so happy to see either of them. "Look you two, I'm not even going to start to get involved in whatever spirited discussion the two of you are having. But unless I miss my mark, I'm going to have to disappoint both of you. The only altar Little Red here is ending up on is the one to my bank account."

The larger of the two Faunus bristles, stepping angrily towards the suit-clad thief "You have no—"

Torchwick slams his cane down against the grimy concrete, a loud clacking noise cutting the Faunus off "Until those trains get to Vale, I do actually, have the authority. This is still my job." He strides over to Ruby, grabs her by the elbow and wrenches her to her feet. The world spins for a moment, and she feels woozy as Torchwick starts pushing her towards what looks like the door.

"We've been using the altar we built ever since we set up our base here, Torchwick! Your squeamish human morals won't stop us from practicing our faith!" The one that had cut Ruby shouts, gesturing at the thieif aggressively, but without much intent aside from anger.

Roman rolls his eyes. "I haven't tried to stop you mutts before, and if your made-up doggy god decides he wants kibble instead of human hearts next week, I still won't try to stop you then. What I care about is being made an accessory if this all comes down around our heads."

"You'll come to regret doubting our faith eventually, human scum!" The other shouts as Roman kicks the door open in front of them, frog-marching Ruby ahead of him.

He leans in to whisper in her ear. "Play along, Red, I'm a thief not a killer." Before standing up and twisting to half face them, still not breaking his awkward gait. "Even if her old man isn't in as good with Ozpin as I've heard, her Uncle is. Or did you animals forget that I'm here for a payday, not your crusade?"

He what now? Oh! "You won't get away with this, you criminal scum! The only ones who're gonna pay is you!" Ruby half wheezes, throat sore and dry. How long had she been out?

"You're already an accessory to just as much as you're guilty of, human!" The burlier of the pair retorts, ignoring Ruby's own shouting.

Roman shrugs. "Homicide's still one of the things the cops cant put me in front of a judge for Berry." before shoving Ruby forward again "I might just let you put Red on the altar though, nothing quite so compelling to loosen one of those 'don't negotiate' types wallets as a girl in peril." The door slams shut behind them, and, for a few minutes, they walk in silence. Eventually, they reach a more clean hallway. Roman grabs the attention of a Faunus with an unfeathered mask, and a barely perceptible hint of orange at its edges. "Forest, take the kid, and get her in one of the secure—"

The sounds of gunfire and explosions begin to echo down the hall, causing all four of them to go silent. "Umm, boss?"

Torchwick shoves Ruby at the plain-masked Faunus with a scowl. "That's probably the rest of the Brat Brigade. I need to go let the animals know that the schedules been moved up a few hours and get the trains moving. Pass Red off to the next bunch of zealots you see, find all of our people, make sure none of them are getting on the trains, and get gone. We're cutting ties with the animals after today." At that, he wheels around and stalks off, his diminutive helper... nowhere to be seen?

"Right, move it, kid." The Faunus, she thinks she can see over-sized fangs peaking out past the bottom of his mask, prods her with what looks like the standard VA-07 battle rifle–the model the White fang had been stealing by the crate, according to Weapons Monthly AND NeoTech Quarterly, and those two magazines never agreed on anything–but Ruby can see the mechashift seams, and he'd better not think that she didn't notice. Then there's the fact that the barrel is clearly a higher caliber than a standard 'oh-sevens, probably a fifty BMG or custom Huntsman— "I'm talkin' to you, brat!"

What? Oh, yeah, still a prisoner. "You, umm, I'm sorry?"

He prods her with his rifle again, and Ruby resumes walking. "Did. They. Take. Your. Scroll?"

Ruby shifts about awkwardly, eventually managing to thread a few of her fingers into her pocket, to fish her scroll halfway out of it. "Umm, I guess they didn't?" Hey, the sounds of gunshots and fighting are getting closer.

The thug lets out an exasperated sigh before muttering "Can't believe I let myself get mixed up with these idiots." More or less to himself. They walk down the hallway for another five minutes or so, before they come to an intersection, and cross paths with a pair of bored-looking Fang grunts. "You two! Take this prisoner to the secure cells!"

One of them nods, the other bristles. "I thought we were sacrificing that one, and why should we listen to you?"

The thug Roman had handed her off to roll his eyes, she thinks, and shoves her towards the more cooperative of the pair. "The human wants her ransom as part of his payment, and the Priests let him have it. And the two of you are going to listen to me, because I need to go get my squad ready."

"Ready for what?" The contrary, wolf-eared Faunus growls back.

Torchwick's mole-Traitor?-Henchman? leans forward and smacks the grumpy Faunus upside his head. "Listen, you moron!" All four of them fall silent, and Ruby can hear the fighting even closer now. Specifically, a very angry sounding Yang, and Jeanne laughing. The two apparently lower ranked Faunus go very pale, and very still for a moment, before each of them grabs one of her elbows and they take off down the left hallway, the other Faunus heading off to the right at a jog.

The three of them turn two more corners before a loud crashing noise has all three of them stopping to look and see what had caused the noise. A pair of White Fang grunts slamming into the wall had made the noise, apparently. As the implications of that strike home, a panting, crimson-eyed Yang rounds the corner, a light trail of smoke rising from Ember Celica's left gauntlet. "Get your hands off my little sister!" Yang bellows, before lashing backwards with her right first and snapping off another shot with Ember Celica as she launches herself forwards.

The one holding on to Ruby's right elbow receives a powerful left hook to his jaw, Yang letting out a wordless shout as the Faunus is sent tumbling to the ground. The other Fang grunt has just barely let go of Ruby's other elbow as Yang steps past Ruby and buries her right fist in his gut. Jeanne and Weiss barrel around the corner next, Ruby's partner carrying Crescent Rose at her waist, bot fencers in a ready stance. Ember Celica roars again as Yang follows through with her strike, sending the fang grunt up into the ceiling. A blueish-white orb of projectile Dust whips past her head, eliciting a scream from someone further down the hallway. Yang rotates around Ruby, and plants a solid kick into the gut of the first Faunus she had downed, sending him into the far wall–and aborting his attempt to get back on his feet–just as the wolf-eared grunt hits the floor after having bounced off the ceiling.

Jeanne, with a swiftness Ruby felt even she'd find difficult to match, darts past the sisters, and Ruby can hear the clang of steel on steel. Arthur, Oobleck and Le Fay round the corner next, the latter of the trio clutching a yellow Dust crystal in either hand, spinning yellow magic circles in front of both.

Le Fay had mentioned she solidifiing her cover as a Huntress-in-training apprenticed to her brother last night. Something her 'Semblance' being an offshoot of the Schnee family's-slightly stronger and more adaptable, but purely elemental-'sadly', her brother hadn't inherited it like she did. At least thats the story. She still needs to hold back a bit, which explains why she doesn't have her staff in hand and her head is uncovered.

Yang, meanwhile, strikes the Aura restrictive cuffs with Ember Celica, shattering them around Ruby's hands before taking her by the shoulders for a quick once-over. "Ruby, are you okay? Did they do anything to you?" Her sister presses as she unties the ropes that had been keeping Ruby from escaping herself. Weiss jogs up to the pair, slinging Crescent Rose off of her waist and offering it to the team leader as the last rope hits the ground, and Blake and Connla round the corner, walking backwards, one directing shadows to lash out at something behind them, the other letting out a steady barrage of fire from Gambol shroud.

"No, no. I was actually unconscious up til a few minutes ago. Why?" She replies, taking her weapon as Zwei bounds over to her to nuzzle her ankles.

Ruby turns to face forward, and is relieved to see Jeanne easily holding a trio of Fang grunts at bay, twirling around their awkward attempts to club her with rifle butts and overly telegraphed sword swings. "Because we were waylaid by a most perplexing pack of Grimm after young miss Pendragon roused us to let us know that you had yet to return from letting Zwei answer nature's call." Oobleck rambles as he, Arthur and Le Fay join the group. Yang wraps Ruby up in a tight, fiercely protective hug, before taking a step away from her. Ember Celica barks as Yang launches herself forward to relieve her fellow blonde.

Ruby shoulders Crescent Rose, and squeezes off a shot, catching the fourth Fang grunt who Weiss had iced to the floor in the chest and knocking him to the ground. "Strange how?" Ruby asks, falling into step with the professor and her partner as the group sets off at a jog again. Yang reaches the fight and, once again catches an unaware White Fang grunt and downing him in one go, before punching a second into one of Jeanne's slashes. The Hero steps over the jointly downed grunt, and sweeps low, spilling the last one in the hallway to the ground. A bolt of lighting streaks past Ruby, Weiss and Oobleck to strike the prone Faunus, incapacitating him.

"There was a Goliath Elder leading the pack." Oobleck replies tersely as the group carries on down the hallway, his head on a swivel as they move.

Le Fay, clearly at a loss for what to do in the center of the group in such an enclosed space, looks over to the Beacon professor. "Um, and how is that so strange, sir?"

The professor shoots her an odd look, before glancing at Ruby, then shaking his head. "It is strange, Miss Pendragon, because Goliaths almost never form packs with other grimm. They are also content to wait for settlements to be in the process of falling, rather than seeking out humans to fight. Unless a member of the herd has gone missing, they can almost be considered docile." Le Fay winces, and Arthur cuts a knowing glance her way. If anyone notices the interaction, no one comments on it.

A tendril of shadow, holding a Fang grunt by his ankles lashes forwards and up, slamming the terrorist into the ceiling before releasing him. "Mind your attacks, Connla. You nearly hit the good Doctor." Arthur chides, acting much the same as Oobleck, observing more than actively participating in the running battle. A trio of Fang Grunts barrel around the corner of the T intersection they are approaching, the one closest to the wall is knocked to the ground when a sword springs out of the wall at neck level. The second takes a round from Crescent Rose to his gut, and, before he can bounce off of the wall the hit had launched him into, Weiss freezes him to it. The third is roughly and quickly taken to the ground by Yang, who had met him with a vicious right-left-right combo to his sternum, before elbowing him in the back of the head as she jogged past him.

"Do we have any idea what these wastrels are doing here?" Weiss asks as they turn right at the intersection, following the direction that the Fang grunts had come from.

Ruby snaps off a shot at a Faunus that had stepped out into the hallway, winging his leg, putting him off balance enough that Jeanne's passing sweep puts him on the ground. Le Fay incapacitates that grunt with another bolt of lighting before Weiss can react. "Could use a little help back here!" A stressed out sounding Blake half-shouts from the rearguard. Arthur catches his sister's arm when she starts turning around, earning him a pout, then a nod before the leader of the team of Heroes moves to support their rearguard.

"Torchwick said something about trains when he was arguing with those White Fang priests that had me." Ruby offers, trying to think what it was they would be doing with trains this far from, well, anything.

"Priests?" Blake echoes, clearly bewildered. So she doesn't know what's going on with the Fang either. That's a relief.

Weiss lets a grin cross her face. "So, Torchwick was with them?" So much better than she had been at the start of the school year! Less fussy and more Huntressy. That is a word, right?

Ruby nods and watches as a look of understanding crosses the Professor's face. "Yes, yes of course!" He skids to a halt before turning on his heels and sprinting back through the group. "Change of plans, if I'm right we are in the perfect position to stop something especially horrific from happening. Quickly now!" The rest of the group are all nearly bowled over by the professor, Le Fay probably would have been if Weiss hadn't caught her by the elbow after she had been nearly bowled over by the manic Doctor.

A hilt extends from the base of his thermos as he reaches Blake, Connla and Arthur. As he steps past their rearguard he takes a swing with the drinking implement turned mace, cracking one Fang grunt across his jaw, dislodging the mask and spilling him to the ground. On the back-swing he takes a second Faunus in the gut. She doubles over, wheezing only for Connla to drive both fists into the base of her neck, knocking her out cold.

A cursing Yang and a blitzing Jeanne pass what had been the middle of their group in a mad rush to reclaim their position on point, the two raven-haired combatants leaning over, hands planted on their knees and panting-probably an act on Connlas part. Arthur, amazingly, steps to the center of the hallway that they had been barreling down after rescuing Ruby. The blonde holding back the steady trickle of White Fang fighters trying to capture or kill them casually displaying a level of skill, speed and control that even Uncle Qrow would probably have trouble matching. It doesn't take long for the group to recover their momentum, and after nearly fifteen minutes of them barreling through the abandoned underground city, it resembles the cave system it had once been more than the remains of a human settlement.

The group skids to a halt when the city fully gives way to a bare cavern bisected by rail lines. A handful of groaning or unconscious White Fang grunts lying at their feet, but none currently contesting their advance. The crackle of a poorly maintained PA system draws their attention, and is closely followed by Roman Torchwick's voice. "Alright, Breach Train is rolling out in five, transport to follow ten minutes later. Get to your places, people, and don't mess this up." His voice is a strange mix between the chipper pep of someone intent on mayhem and the clipped all-business enunciation of a CEO out for blood. At least it is if the movies Ruby's watched are anything to go by.

The group all pile up against the filthy wall of what had once been a tenement, all of them poking their heads around a corner, to see a pair of trains surrounded by white uniformed Faunus. The nearer train is a squat thing, dingy, mud-caked, lightly rusted charcoal gray with a simple plow affixed to the engines front. Behind the engine is a long line of plain boxcars, most of which still have Faunus in plain uniforms hauling themselves up its ladders as it starts rolling forwards. The second is sleeker and taller, painted in a vibrant green trimmed with copper. At its front and rear are what look to be the bastard child of a train engine and a ram trireme. Each car looks custom built to match the engine, and has a handful of what look to be automated defense turrets extending from its top.

"Verdant Salvation." Oobleck–exclaims? States? It really doesn't mean much of anything–to Ruby. And she lets him know as much. The professor shakes his head "The second train, it's the Verdant Salvation, one of two armed and armored engines that were used during the final months of Mountain Glens fall and evacuation. Vale's Huntsmen and Armed Forces couldn't guarantee that the tracks would be entirely secure or Grimm free. So the Valean Council purchased the schematics to the Argus Limited and expanded on them. Those two engines are as responsible for saving more survivors of Mountain Glenn than the entirety of the Huntsmen who volunteered to oversee the defense and evacuation efforts combined."

Blake nods along. "Even the White Fang recognizes that. They wouldn't have gone to the effort of restoring it as best they could before..." She trails off, either at a loss for words, or not sure what it is the civil rights movement turned terrorist organization turned apparent cult, is here for.

"Two trains, two teams—Most fortuitous. Mine will deal with the fanatics sullying the Salvation's memory. Doctor, you can take the students and deal with the chaff on the departing engine." Arthur all but drawls, glaring into the open cavern. Ruby wants to comment on how her team can handle the soldiers loading themselves onto the named engine.

That said, while the Faunus loading onto the slowly accelerating train are almost all in plain uniforms, and pretty clearly recent recruits, the Faunus moving supplies to, or boarding the second, more decorated and defended train nearly all have modified their uniforms and masks. Many of them have feathers extending from their masks, or have replaced portions of their uniforms with animal hides or pelts. Some of them bearing the open, robe-like getups the 'priests' from before had been in, some of them, embarrassingly, are girls who are hanging out of the wide robes; and others are clearly just veteran fighters or fanatics.

Oobleck shakes his head. "No, Mr. Pendragon. I need your team to fall back and lie low. The Valean army, likely aided by a contingent from Atlas and a score of Huntsmen and Huntresses should be en route by now. I activated my emergency beacon before we left to rescue Miss Rose, and our reinforcements will need someone to guide them to our quarry." Arthur raises an unhappy brow, his sister looks confused, and Jeanne seems baffled while Connla bristles.

"You want us to...Wait around for the military…? You're kidding." Jeanne drawls in disbelief, eyes locked on the Professor. "He's kidding, right?" she presses glancing towards Ruby and Weiss in search of an affirmation.

"I can assure you that I am not, young lady. The battlefield is not a place for humor more complex than a witty observation or pointing out amusing non-sequiturs." Oobleck patiently answers. Ever the consummate lecturer, he patiently draws in a breath before explaining his reasoning. "It would be foolish of us to assume a team of first year Academy students could accomplish the feat I have tasked your team with, and careless of us to entrust them with it."

Ruby shifts unhappily, trying to keep from scowling. After the talk she'd had with Le Fay–last night? A few hours ago? How long had she been out?–sitting back and just letting evil people get away with, well, anything is the last thing she wants to do right now. That, combined with the thought of those priests or cultists or whatever the heck they were- getting away with doing whatever it is they had been has her itching to leap into the fray, Crescent Rose first. They don't have time for this. The White Fang needs to be stopped now. Her team doesn't look any happier than she feels. Blake is twitching in impatient irritation while Yang and Weiss' expressions are both blatantly and unrepentantly peeved.

Dr. Oobleck, is quick to notice her team's mood. He turns to them, his expression and tone softening slightly. "No offense intended, girls. However, I am your teacher first and foremost, therefore your wellbeing must take precedence." He tilts his head to face the Heroes, and all gentleness drains from his voice. "I will press my position as Senior Huntsman and a Beacon Professor if I must."

Arthur sighs in dissatisfaction, turning his eyes down to his sword. After sharing a glance with a pouting Jeanne who shrugs back limply, the Hero offers a half bow before stepping away from the wall. "Go then, before the first train is gone or moving too swiftly to catch. Good hunting."

Oobleck nods at the blonde, face solemn, offering a hand for Arthur to shake. "Stay safe. It has been a pleasure fighting alongside your group, however briefly. I hope to see you again in Vale under better circumstances." The Heroes begin backing off at Arthur and Jeanne's insistence after the former lets go of the professor's hand.

Le Fay and Ruby exchange a swift farewell and a promise to meet again soon as they can, an easy friendship having begun to bud after their talk the night before. At least Ruby hopes so. Weiss offers a respectful nod in response to Arthur's, Connla offering one of his own in response and Jeanne giving them a cheerful, slightly forced wave as she turns to head off with the rest of her 'team.'

Somehow Ruby feels worse for the Paladins closing in than she is worried for her new friends.. Hopefully the Heroes won't be too rough on them. "Well girls, don't just stand there." Oobleck steps back from the wall and looks over Ruby's team as he prepares his weapon for combat. "We have a train to stop."

_-*R-DxD*-_

Jaune wakes up to the blaring of his scrolls default alarm tone.

The hotel bed isn't terribly uncomfortable, but the situation certainly is. It isn't that he minds waking up with a beautiful girl in his arms, rather that the beautiful girl in question is a bit too short, hair a few shades too light, hips more wide than toned. And, most importantly there was something undefined between her and one of Jaune's closest friends that had almost tragically become unresolved–permanently–at the end of the brief, brutal fight that had ended yesterday.

The fact that Nora had curled in on herself, assuming the fetal position in the night a clear indicator that the feeling is mutual. If nothing else, she had healed. With her previously savaged abdomen curling in on herself like that would not only have been incredibly painful, but potentially damaging. Jaune's shifting around, as gentle as it had been, combined with the alarm clock is enough to rouse Nora as well.

He sits up, taking care to shift the blankets to protect his teammate's modesty–Not that her matching pink panties and sports bra are incredibly exposed–And looks around the room. Pyrrha is on the other bed, blanket hauled over her head, moaning and muttering as she tries to return to her slumber. Ren is sat up on the couch he had volunteered to sleep on, bags under his eyes, wrists resting on his knees. The Bishop immediately locks eyes with him. "How is she?"

Jaune peeks his head under the blanket for a split second to check, before looking back to Ren. "Healed up fine, not even a scar."

Ren nods, stands up, and makes his way over to the side of the bed. "I truly am grateful, Jaune. Not just for healing her this time, or giving us a second chance at life. You're becoming more and more like the brother I never had with each day we spend on a team together." He pauses, and lets out a half-chuckle "In fact, if it weren't for you having reincarnated me, between my Semblance's side effects, and how...reserved...I usually am, I'm certain it would have taken years for me to come to certain realizations." Another pause, this time with a grin however. "Or, more likely Nora losing her patience after years of me willfully ignoring her hints and my own feelings. So, as grateful as I am, you just spent the night spooning someone very, very dear to me, and I don't think that is something I can stand for."

Jaune nods with an understanding smile, raising his hands in a surrendering gesture. The leader of Team JNPR notices the last of Ren's tension leaves his frame as he slips from the bed. After an admission like that, it wasn't a lie to say he feels like he's intruding by being in the same room as the two childhood friends. The blond slips into his combat outfit, well, a clean set of the sturdy jeans and sweatshirt that he wears under his armor and makes his way over to his still trying to sleep partner. "Hey, hey Pyrrha, we've gotta make sure the Memory Alteration spell I used on Qrow took."

Pyrrha rolls away from the hand he had rested on her shoulder, pulling the blankets more tightly around her as he does so. "Surely you can do that with Ren? He is better at magic than I am."

Ren casts a rueful glance in their direction. Normally Jaune would–in his own mind at least–be accusing the reserved teen of silently laughing at them. Ren, however, looks more nervous than anything. Jaune decides that his friend needs a bit of help. "Actually, I think Nora and Ren are about to have a long overdue, private, heart-to-heart."

"He's...Not wrong." Ren wryly utters.

Nora bolts upright in the bed with an excited 'eep' and a dusting of pink on her cheeks at that, and Pyrrha, finally, pokes her head out from under her blanket cocoon. On seeing her friends body language, and probably realizing the implications of Jaune and Ren's previous conversation while she had been feigning sleep, her eyes light up, and she shifts her hand free to cover her mouth, face a blazing red. "Oh my…" Sleep addled as she is, half of the grin is still clearly visible.

Pyrrha dresses more or less the same way Jaune had, quickly donning her combat skirt and corset, tying her crimson mane into a loose tail, and, brushing her biceps, materializing the bangles she'd had ever since unlocking her Sacred Gear. They close the door behind them, gently, and make their way over to Qrow's room. The loud snoring coming from within reminds them of the gruff old Huntsman from yesterday's offhand comment about just how long the now-dead traitors semblance would put Qrow out for, and modify their plan.

They amble down the hallway to the hotel lobby, which has been set up to serve the complimentary breakfast that was, apparently, offered. They hadn't exactly asked many questions when checking in the night before. Not currently living under the dread specter of their ginger teammate, both of them swiftly gravitate towards the pair of waffle irons set up at the end of the short buffet table to enjoy the elicit breakfast delicacy they offer. Jaune takes his with butter and syrup, Pyrrha with strawberries and jam.

They keep the conversation light, mostly just guessing at how their friends' missions are going. How sidetracked Sun had gotten his team, what sort of self inflicted drama Pyrrha's old Tournament rivals Onyx and Raye had gotten caught up in. Whether or not team RWBY had managed to stay out of trouble, what mission that drama queen, Cinder, had picked for her team. They are both halfway through their second waffle–who knows when Nora will next be distracted enough that they can enjoy some without her bandying mostly playful threats and decrying them for heresy–when Qrow stumbles out of the hallway, one eye still half-crusted over with sleep.

He piles a plate up with scrambled eggs, fills two mugs with coffee and slumps down in between them at a table clearly meant for two. "How're you kids holding up?" He greets them, before downing half of one of the mugs–Has to be using his Aura for that, the thing is steaming still. "I know yesterday was kind of intense."

Jaune shrugs. "Well enough. Kind of curious as to how things are going to play out after that mess last night."

Qrow lets the silence draw out. After a long pause, he squints at Jaune first, then glances at Pyrrha before returning his gaze to the Team Leader. "Really, half-a-dozen well trained militiamen go straight for the kill after realizing the jig is up, and you're not at all shaken?" Clearly more suspicious than he is shocked or worried.

Wel, crap.

Pyrrha, clearly still groggy and operating on autopilot, woodenly twirls her empty fork, before lowering it for another bite. "It wasn't really the first time we've had to fight people that went straight for lethal tactics." She didn't look particularly happy about that fact, which helps balance out what Jaune may have to say next, depending on how the veteran Huntsman reacts.

The older professional's eyebrows raise a bit as he snaps his focus from Jaune back to Pyrrha.

Perfect.

With a squint of his own and a bit of magic, Jaune is able to examine the slightly noticeable signature emanating from the man. Jaune would be the first to admit his ability to sense magic presences is mediocre at best. Which is why he has to concentrate hard and actively look for the supernatural phenomena he knows should be there.

Still holding strong, and the spell feels undisturbed. Good.

"And just where the hell–You know what, not gonna pry unless you feel like telling." He cuts himself off, again, and shakes his head, before taking a bite from his scrambled eggs, chewing swallowing, and continuing. "So, what happened after Whit put me under?"

Jaune winces. "One of the impostors had some sort of energy cannon. He tried to get Ren with it, but Ren re-directed it into Whit. At about the same time the one with the hard light talons got through Nora's aura and–"

"Impostors?" Qrow cuts him off, voice raising and taking on a sharp edge, but not quite crossing over into a shout.

Pyrrha nervously takes a sip from her glass of juice and, before lowering it back to the table, replies. "After the fight ended, all of them looked drastically different than they had at the start of the fight. One of them probably had an illusory Semblance, but, since they are all dead..."

Qrow squints in disbelief. "You kids do realize that people trying to kill Huntsmen isn't normal. That Huntresses having to kill their assailants back isn't normal, right?." The older man goes silent as he looks them over again. Definitely with more scrutiny than Jaune would like. He eventually glances in Team JNPRs rooms general direction, jerking his chin in the same direction moments later. "Where's the rest of your team?"

Now to make sure Qrow Branwen doesn't remember what had actually happened before he'd been incapacitated last night. Jaune offers the experienced Huntsman a practiced, awkward smirk. "I was getting to that. The leader–the one with the hard light talons–managed to get through Nora's Aura. You know how bad of a match–up something close–in like that would be for a greathammer–and left some nasty gashes across her stomach. Ren redirected an attack meant for him into Whit, that broke his aura and sent him stumbling over to Nora, he went to finish the job instead of getting out of the fight."

"And…? This is a debriefing, not story hour. Suspense, cliffhangers and pacing don't belong." Qrow reaches for his jacket, frowns upon realizing he hadn't put it on before leaving for breakfast, then moves to slam off the rest of his first coffee to cover the reflexive act.

Jaune's wince at that question is an honest one. "Well, I wasn't going to make it to Nora in time, and everyone else was pretty busy–Whit almost had her head. Ren managed to get him-and the other impostor who was recovering right by her. I'm sure you know how close calls can put things into perspective, they wanted to have a private discussion."

"Wonderful" Qrow slowly groans out, slumping back in his seat to stare at the ceiling and collect his thoughts. "You don't honestly believe that a girl who just nearly lost her life will be in the right state of mind to talk to the kid who just took his first life, do you?" Jaune grimaces. That, thatDoes sound pretty stupid when it gets shoved in his face like that. "Right, even if she bungles it or forgets, that's what Beacon keeps professionals on the staff for. Fine, whatever. I'm letting this go. I was always crap at dealing with emotions and shit like this, anyways. That was Summer's forte."

Pyrrha leaps at the opportunity to get away from the morbid topic. "Summer, your partner?"

"And Team Leader." Qrow lazily confirms, melancholy layered over fondness thick on his voice and set into his features Ah, maybe Jaune should stop–

The Invincible Girl tentatively presses further, clearly curious about one of the most famous Huntsman teams of the previous generation. "So then, did you have any stories about Team Stark that you you'd be willing to–"

"Morning, Jaune! Morning, Pyrrha! Heya, Qrow!" Nora chirps as she bounds into the room, a beaming smile that's something other than manic on her face for once. Ren is standing at her side, just a hair closer than Jaune would have considered normal a week ago. Both are in their full combat outfits, weapons with them. Ren's smirk is a small thing, but just as obvious as Nora's wide grin to those who know the reserved teen well.

Qrow sighs wearily, shaking his head before offering to Pyrrha, "Another time, Champ." The veteran pushes himself up from the table, face once again 'all-business'. "You kids finish getting yourselves ready and get some food in you. I'm gonna freshen up, then see about wrapping this whole mess up. Word to the wise: It's gonna be a zoo out there, and I wanna get your group exposed to as much of it as I can before policy finishes tying my hands." At that half-helpful, half-cryptic note, he tromps past the recently arrived students back towards his room, meal still half-finished.

Nora lets out a mirthful giggle at Qrow's melodramatic farewell before heading towards the small breakfast buffet, Ren close behind her with a slightly deeper grin on his face.

Of course, Qrow's multiple predictions about the state of Pendles proving true is enough to drain the chipper, giddy optimism from Nora, as well as any leftover mirth out of Ren, Jane and Pyrrha after breakfast.

The Valean Army had arrived not long after the fight had ended, having already spoken with Ren and Pyrrha, they are left to follow Qrow while Jaune and Nora are both pulled aside by soldiers with sergeants chevrons on their shoulders and caps for statements to be taken.

Huntsmen, Huntresses and soldiers in loose fitting forest green, earth brown and slate gray leaf pattern camouflage uniforms, Kevlar vests resting over the top and square-brimmed caps on their heads. Most of them have their rifles slung over their backs by the straps, a few have hefty packs, and maybe one in every dozen has a compact smg hanging across their chest, black caps and a short sword on their hips sheathed in a segmented piece of metal that reminds Jaune of his own mechashifting shields compact form.

He really doesn't envy those soldiers of the uneven weight distribution on their belts. It had sucked for him before he'd figured out his runic magic to get it to lighten when compacted. Him and Norra had, thankfully, finished giving their statements fairly quickly, and not been asked many questions after giving them. The two of them met up, then immediately had to stop as an APC with the ovular beret-clad skull over a pair of axes emblem of the Valean Auric Commandos rumbles down the road at speed, headed towards the edge of the city in the direction of the gate leading in and out of the valley. Squads of soldiers, led mostly by Huntsmen and Huntresses, but occasionally by militiamen are bustling too and fro, with barely any civilians out on the sidewalks or driving the streets still. "Think they enacted martial law or something?" Nora asks from where she's walking off to Jaune's left.

He shakes his head in a negative when he spots Qrow, Ren and Pyrrha talking with a quartet of soldiers. Jaune can spot a Major's star on the center of one's hat, two have captains bars on their shoulders and he can't tell what rank the fourth is, but he's fairly certain its of similar status to the others. By the time they are in earshot of the group, the soldiers salute, and scatter. Ren and Pyrrha both perk up at the sight of the rest of their team, while Qrow has a scowl on his face, and a hand on Harbinger's hilt. "How'd their statements go?" Pyrrha asks, jogging over to take Jaune's hand in hers, before blushing and letting it go when she spots Qrow's demeanor. She doesn't step out of his personal space though.

Jaune shrugs, "Quickly. I answered honestly, and there really wasn't much to tell. Trying to match faces from the diner to some pictures they had was the hardest part."

Qrow nods, "Yeah, gonna be a lot of that for the next few days." He starts walking, and motions for them to follow. "Any idea what's going on?"

"Martial law?" Nora offers, casting a quick, apologetic glance Jaune's way. No big deal, that is what it looks like.

Qrow barks out a laugh. "Nah, this zoo is trying to sort out which militiamen are guilty, which ones were just trying to do their job in a bad spot, and which let themselves get turned into accessories. Lots of matching faces, comparing stories and keeping tabs on people to go around before the Tribunal can start. And once that's done they can send back to Vale for volunteers to fill out the officer vacancies that the Militia can't replenish from their own numbers." He pauses, grimacing as a squad of soldiers stomp out of a corner pharmacy, half a dozen militiamen in sloppy uniforms and handcuffs in front of them and held at gunpoint.

"Looks like they might need to reinforce the garrison too." Ren observes with a grimace.

Qrow shakes his head. "Not likely. Only forty snuck off in the night while the chaos was still bad. The civilians staying home is just to speed up the process of taking their statements if they have any, and preparing for the next grimm wave. Lots of scared, bitter and upset people in town right now."

Pyrrha looks grim at his statement, but not surprised. Must be one of the things the Army officers had been filling Qrow in on. "I... subdued almost as many outside the Militia Headquarters last night."

Jaune winces. "Nearly half the militia corrupt? Yeah, I can see them needing reinforcements to keep doing their job right. That's nearly half of their force."

Before Qrow can properly respond, a soldier in a private's uniform jogs up to Qrow and shoves a scroll at him. He scowls at the device, forcefully taps the screen a few times, scans his right thumb and tells the poor grunt to go get the team leaders. "It isn't that bad. Almost half of the militiamen you had to fight weren't actually guilty of anything."

Pyrrha's face twists into a mask of displeased confusion as another squad of soldiers stomp past, a local Huntsman at their head. "Then why would they–"

Qrow shrugs almost apologetically as he glances at her. "It's an 'us versus them' thing. A bunch of strangers from outside the city show up and start tossing accusations at your friends and superior officers. Bad ones. Who do you want to believe and fight alongside?" Pyrrha winces, but doesn't press the issue any further. "Of course, a handful of the ones who didn't try to storm the Headquarters offices clearly were part of the problem, since someone had to sneak off to warn the rest of the corrupt bastards to slip town."

Jaune looks back over his shoulder. "I'm guessing that's what the Special Forces were heading out of town to deal with?"

Qrow nods. "And that's probably where we would be headed too right now, save for two things."

Another squad of soldiers pass, this one surrounded by a gaggle of civilians all talking at the beleaguered looking soldiers at once. "And what are those?" Ren prompts, sidestepping a particularly furious looking young woman as she screams at the soldiers.

"First, the damned Old Goat went and abdicated his role as Senior Huntsman until the tribunal is finished. Fine with watching out for 'his' city but doesn't want to deal with the mess." Qrow reaches for his flask and takes a belt from it before shoving it back into his jacket. "Which means you kids would have been stuck spending the next week split up supporting squads of soldiers as they take statements, round up the guilty, and tell witnesses how their rights going into a tribunal are different from a regular trial." He pauses and shakes his head. "It's tedious work up until its terrifying or heart-wrenching, but, would probably be good if you kids had a good long talk about what sort of jobs you take on going forward."

"Whys that?" Nora asks, clearly confused, and a bit nervous looking.

Qrow cuts his gaze over to Jaune. "You've had a few missions go this sort of wrong apparently, but that doesn't mean they all will. Make sure you don't start reading between the lines to get more missions like this, or over-stress trying to avoid them. Learn to do your jobs and take care of yourselves first, then worry about getting picky about what exactly those jobs are." Jaune nods, Pyrrha pouts, and Ren and Nora leap out of the way of a handful of kids flying down the sidewalk on scooters and skateboards, clearly not much caring about what had happened the night before. "So, now that I covered what you would be doing instead of working with the most effective, pragmatic and amiable military unit in Remnant on a proper hunt I–"

Qrows scroll starts buzzing, he makes a pained expression, and no move to answer it. "Umm, Qrow, your scroll's kinda, you know..." Nora trails off, shaking her hands at his pocket.

"Yup..."

"Are you gonna, you know...?"

"Yup…" Qrow heaves a sigh and pulls it from his pocket, jabs the screen and puts it to his ear. "Branwen here." For a moment there is silence as whoever called replies. "Yeah, I know what I reported, but I'm telling you–" More silence, followed by Qrow tilting his head away from the speaker. "Yeah, yeah, I know, but, seriously they don't–" again, he goes quiet, scowling off into the distance for nearly five minutes as the other person speaks. "For the record, I–"

He winces again, and actually pulls the scroll away from his head. By the time he turns it to look at the screen, the line is clearly dead. "Bitch."

"Umm, if you don't mind me asking, what, or who, was that?" Jaune asks before the silence can get awkward.

Qrow shakes his head and takes a few steps ahead before turning to walk backwards and face the team. "Your get out of jail free card, I guess. Beacon's policy is, apparently, ironclad when it comes to a student having to employ lethal force for the first time while their team is shadowing a professional. Pass grade on the assignment, and immediate return to Vale for rest, recuperation and psychological support. If it isn't your first kill that call is in the pro's hand, but, as things stand, your group is wings-up in half an hour. Good luck at Beacon. You four seem like good kids. Don't lose sight of that." Qrow averts his eyes, pretty clearly lost in memories of happier times. "Or each other. Till we meet again, I suppose."

They set off across the city, frequently having to pause or step aside to avoid groups of soldiers. Sometimes they are just distracted looking, or focused on a destination. Others, they have militiamen, or what look like civilians in cuffs, and a handful of times they just seem to be moving supplies from one place to another.

The city's airship dock has half a dozen soldiers posted guarding it, who are quick to wave them through. The open field out past the proper landing pads has a big troop transport landed on it. Blocky and oblong, it has a quartet of the quad-wing pairs Vale's home-built airships favor as opposed to the more sleek, swept-back configuration of Atlesian vessels. The four lower wings are all bent at a forty-five degree angle to serve as landing struts, and the big ship is fully powered down. All of the landing pads are full now, with a motley assortment of airships and bullheads, though, only one–the powder blue and green striped one that had been here already yesterday–looks like it's making ready for takeoff.

Jaune lays eyes on the approaching figure and nearly does a double take. He almost moves to draw Crocea Mors, but is able to clamp down on the instinct. Barely.

A grinning, black-winged Faunus–his feathers unnervingly familiar–strides from the older, heavily modified Bullhead towards them, reaching the team of students just outside of where the powering up engines would make talking difficult. "Name's Turk, and if you kids are Team Juniper, I'm your ride back to Vale."

Jaune nods, forces his face into the friendliest grin he can manage and shakes the offered hand. "Jaune Arc. And yeah, that's us."

The airships, pilot? Turns and walks back towards the seemingly ready vessel "So, do you kids wanna take the scenic route back, or the efficient route?"

Pyrrha blinks, politely tilting her head in inquiry. "There's multiple ways to get from here to Vale?"

The pilot nods. "Yeah, high altitude, sweeping passes, keeping to the open air, or, if you have stones, there's a few quicker ways to get from one to the other."

The airship ride yesterday had been long, and pretty dull. Jaune looks over his team, who all nod back at him, clearly thinking the same thing. "Let's give the quick route a shot?"

The pilot's friendly grin turns shit-eating at that. "Hey! Mika! The kids wanna run Hellscreach Pass!" He crows before bounding into the cockpit.

"Umm, what did we just agree to?" Jaune sheepishly asks as they climb into the passenger cabin behind his team.

Pyrrha and Nora both offer shrugs. Ren, face calm, replies, "Strap in tight, just to be safe."

The bullhead's doors seal, and, almost immediately it lifts off from the ground. They're already darting past the city as they rise, nearly tagging one of the watchtowers ringing the valley as they reach its lip.

They do not continue to rise. The ship tilts down and to the right, before Jaune can feel his chest being pressed towards the rear of the craft as the bullhead accelerates, and accelerates, and accelerates. Something these madmen have on this ship can't be legal, or something very important to the vessel's safety features has been disabled. The world outside streaks by in a blur of different shades of gray, occasionally highlighted with a flash of green, or terrifying blue nothingness as the ship tilts sharply to one side or another. On several separate occasions he can feel the whole vessel shudder, whether that's because of a crosswind or actual impact he doesn't know–or care–to find out.

He doesn't look at his scroll. None of them talk. At some point on the terrifying flight, Pyrrha's hand finds his and clamps down hard enough that he needs to flare his Aura a bit so that it doesn't hurt. Ren's eyes had gone gray and his face placid. Nora has twisted around to plaster her face to the nearest window, a manic, gleeful grin on her face.

Then they rocket out of whatever canyon they had been tearing through, out over open ocean, and Vale's skyline is off in the not-too-far distance. "Thank you for flying Air Wanderlust, we are now approaching Valean airspace and getting in touch with Kingdom ATC. If anyone asks, we didn't fly that route, or even mention its existence." For the next half hour or so, they fly in silence as the Kingdom of Vale draws closer and they rise higher into the sky.

Pyrrha, eventually, breaks the silence. "Well, that was certainly..."

"Something we should never do again." Ren cuts Pyrrha off, eyes back to their usual magenta, though he does look a little green around the gills now.

Jaune shakes his head at that. "No, no, if we ever need to get somewhere in a hurry and mundanely, things like this are good to keep in mind."

Pyrrha cuts a less than happy gaze in Jaune's direction at that "And how, precisely, do you expect to find the sort of bullhead crew that knows what are apparently smugglers–"

Jaune cuts her off with a hand on her shoulder. "Never know when a connection will come in handy. If it isn't hurting anyone, how people make a living is none of our business."

He turns his gaze outward to see–

There's a big, thick plume of gray-black smoke rising from the center of the kingdom. He hits the intercom button. "Say, Turk, has ATC told you anything about a big fire in the middle of the kingdom?"

The PA crackles, heralding a response, before a high-pitched multi-tonal shrieking siren cuts through the air, and probably the ship's radio. "Not... not yet. Umm, I'm supposed to get you kids back to Beacon, but...That's the Breach siren, and–"

"Take us in." Jaune cuts him off, voice firm, and proud to see his team and peerage looking just as ready as he feels. The bullhead dips back down and banks towards the wound at the heart of the city. It levels off a few dozen feet above the hole, set right in the middle of an open-air market or plaza. Kind of hard to tell what it had been with grimm and angry Faunus in masks piling out of the hole in the ground and lashing out at terrified civilians.

The bay doors open, and Jaune, along with his team all leap from the ship, landing cleanly and easily. A handful of nearby grimm pause at their landing, and turn to face the recently arrived team of Devils. A particularly scarred looking Beowolf Alpha locks eyes with Jaune, and slowly starts padding towards him. Jaune offers it a sneer, and raises his gauntleted right arm to point at it. He twitches his pointer finger twice, and a pair of fire-darts lance out, catching the Grimm square in the chest.

The alpha bursts into flame, and lets loose a wild howl. The now-burning Grimm then charges at him, clearly uncaring or unaffected by the fires eating away at its hide.

Crap.

_-*R-DxD*-_

Sun and Neptune are ambling down Vale's streets, Provisional Deputy Detective badges once again hanging over their hearts. They'd had to take them off to ask around after the VSPRD Inspector they'd met twice before, and are now shadowing–Brown Haberdasher, an appropriately plain name for such a plain looking man–had decided to let his team do some work on their own. After covering a few different neighborhoods and asking around, they had some, hopefully decent, results to bring to the seasoned Investigator.

Of course, they hadn't wanted to lose the badges, but street rats and gossips alike tend to get jumpy around police. Still, they'd gotten a decent amount of asking around done today. "Hey, Sun," Nep quips from his right side, fingers laced together behind his head as he walks.

"Whats up?"

Nep glances up and off to the left, and Sun follows his gaze "Is it just me, or are there a lot of shipping crates just, you know, laying around Vale?"

"I mean, not really?" He replies as he angles them towards the street that should take them to where the Inspector had said they'd be meeting up. "The things are pretty cheap, so it isn't that weird for a small business to buy one for storage if they have the space for it." He nods his head at the flat topped, kinda run down looking clothes boutique the crate in question is sitting on the roof of. "And, well, if the business goes belly-up, the banks probably won't be bothered to take them when they foreclose and start looking for stuff to sell off."

Neptune blinks at him for a few paces. "I don't know if I should be asking you how you know that, or why you know that first, dude?"

Sun cuts a grin in his best friend's direction "Vacuan street rat survived and escaped, remember?" He pats him on the back "Those things were actually some of the safest places to sleep if you could find one that wasn't too crowded. And, ya know, actually abandoned. Not many shop owners like grubby little street urchins getting their stuff dirty and maybe running off with some of it."

Neptune shakes his head, pulling Tri-Hard's compact form from his belt, extending it to its guandao form, and giving it a flourish. "Man, only you can make something that bad sound good."

He elbows Nep in the gut. Seriously, he's scaring all the civilians. "I dunno man, you make Nerd look pretty good."

Nep rolls his eyes, completely missing the dozen or so people edging away from them even more now for the one girl who had swooned at his showboating. He slings the polearm across his back–seriously, just leaving a sharp edge waving around like that?–and looks back at Sun after shooting a wink at the girl. "So, I think we did pretty decent today, well, so far. How do you think Sage and Scarlet did?"

"I mean, they haven't tried to get ahold of each other yet, so probably pretty well, I'd wager." Sun quips.

Neptune shoots a funny look at him. "Seriously, with how much research they were doing on what sort of places to ask around at, I figured they'd have called to brag about some big breakthrough by now."

Is he for real? "Umm, Nep, I'm pretty sure they're on a date."

"Wait, seriously? With who, I mean, I haven't seen them talking to that many other people since they caught up with us–I mean, cool for them and all–I just really didn't think they were, ya know, trying that hard. And you just let them bail on us and the mission? Especially one as big as this?!"

Sun rolls his eyes at Neptune, both his antics and obliviousness. "I mean, we did kind of sort of abandon them first at the start of the school year. And this–" He gestures at nothing in particular "really isn't that big of a deal. We're just helping the police figure out if a gang of Mistrali information brokers has moved to Vale or not. So, yeah, I figured it'd be fine if they got to play hookey for an afternoon."

Neptune grumbles, but doesn't really press any further. Besides, Inspector Haberdasher is in eyesight now, sprawled out on a park bench, probably listening to half a dozen different mic feeds spread across the park. "So, you two come up with anything?" He asks without moving to acknowledge them, or even look in their direction.

Neptune shrugs. "We covered a few different neighborhoods. I got some gossip about how there were some, umm, shady looking individuals, in the Old Eighth Ward. They might have had spider-web tattoos.

Sun rolls his eyes "Nep, bro, with how old that lady was, anything flashier than plain old pierced ears would be a threat to her. Besides, Most of the street kids that have seen the 'thugs' actually know them. Those are regular prison tats, no Spiders worked into them."

The agent looks over to Sun at that. "Street kids?"

Sun nods a bit awkwardly "Yeah, up until my parents let him start staying in our guest room he was out on the streets in Vacuo, well before he was out on the streets in Mistral. And what do you mean those ladies were old Sun? They can't have been that much older than my grandma."

Sun nudges his partner "Dude, are you forgetting that I lived in your house for a few years? If your parents were a day older than sixteen when they had you I'll shave my tail. Grandma V is young to be one and your perception of 'old' is kinda off."

The officer nudges both teens with a stick that had been on the bench by him, ending the brief, playful argument before it can go any further. "Anything else, or just the one false positive?"

Sun scratches at the back of his head "I, I might have something. Apparently, there's some guys looking around the docks pretty often. Some of the street kids with more guts than common sense run around out there sometimes. Well, the ones I talked to know some who did. Industrial centers aren't exactly the best place for urchins to get handouts, or safest to find a spot to curl up for the night."

Brown pushes himself up to his feet, and dusts off the plain gray slacks he'd been wearing along with a baggy, faded olive drab hoodie. It covered all of his tattoos, and most of his already plain face. "Well, the docks during the day aren't all that much of a danger for a VSPRD Inspector and a pair of Haven Academy students. Try to get a hold of the rest of your team. I don't think anything will happen, but it pays to be prepared." Sun shoots a text off to Sage, and decides that Brown doesn't need to know that he'd got an automated 'do not disturb' mode reply. They walk in silence for a while, before the Inspector breaks the silence. "Speaking of the docks and homeless people, maybe you'll be able to help me close another, admittedly low priority, case while we walk."

Sun shrugs. "Sure, happy to help. Hit me, boss."

He nods "So, you know that I was part of the crew that responded to the fight you and Belladonna got into by the docks earlier this year, right?" Sun nods, it was how he'd met the guy who he's pretty sure is the only reason his team got such an awesome job for their first mission shadowing a pro, after all. "So, I got saddled with checking the area for any damage outside the immediate area of the fight, and make sure no criminals were still hiding out nearby. Saw a bit of graffiti, so fresh it was still dripping, and I had absolutely no clue whose tag it was." Sun swallows hard, hopefully the observant officer didn't notice. "So I snapped a few pictures of it, shared it around with the Organized Crime units from the other precinct houses. When none of them knew whose tag it was, I went online, and international with it. Imagine my surprise when an officer from Vacuo, of all places, got back to me?"

"I mean, pretty wild, small world, right?" Neptune replies. Honestly, Sun isn't sure if Nep is missing the context or trying, poorly, to help.

The Inspector herds them around a corner. They can see an open air market further down the street, and what looks like an arrest, judging by the trio of squad cars, at the far end of the block in the opposite direction. "Yea, guy wasn't even in one of Vacuo's OCU's. Handled charity outreach for one of the capitols bigger precincts. Turns out the tag was old–hasn't been commonly seen in a decade old–hobo street sign. Meant 'free food'. So I checked out the warehouse, found a rotten sack of apples on the roof. You wouldn't know anything ab–"

The inspector is cut off as a deafening roar, heralds the ground shaking, knocking all three unsuspecting men to the ground.

Then the Breach siren starts wailing. "Shit, that can't be good." Neptune groans as he pushes himself back to his feet while the Inspector helps Sun up. Yea, going by the trio of Beowolves he can see heading towards the street they are on, it definitely isn't.

Brown looks at them as Sun pulls Ruyi Bang and Jingu Bang from his hips, snapping them together into their bo-staff form. "You two start dealing with those Grimm, I'm gonna get those officers to start setting up a cordon. Can't have civilians wandering into an active combat zone. They both nod, and start sprinting towards whatever it is that had let Grimm into the city. He can tell Nep had Tri-Hard ready when blue-white bolts of electricity start zipping over his shoulders.

One of the Grimm falls as Sun starts his staff spinning off to his side. He ducks under the second Beowolf's wild swipe as he reaches the entrance to the plaza. A massive hold in its center is all but erupting with Grimm. He sweeps his target's legs out from under it, rotates away from the third's lunge, and snaps the one he had sent to the ground's neck with a quick jab of his staff. The third lupine Grimm growls in pain as the arm that had been headed for Sun's head is taken off by another bolt of electricity. Without missing a beat, he splits his weapons apart, and removes the monster's skull with a pair of shotgun blasts.

He pauses, intending to assess the situation, maybe shout something cool or get whatever civilians that can get themselves out of here moving to safety. Bullets smack off of his aura, and he turns to find himself confronted by a scowling Faunus with a bushy black mane ringing his head from behind a plain White Fang mask. He flips his gun-chucks and sends a pair of shotgun slugs back at the terrorist. One misses, but the other gets his aura to visibly flash, and knocks him to the ground. Sun re-combines his weapons and charges down the thug, trusting Neptune to keep him covered, and switch Tri-Hard to one of its melee forms and get him some back-up if overwatch shots won't cut it.

The grunt is still on the ground, groaning, his rifle nowhere to be found when Sun gets to him. The Faunus snarls some angry rhetoric up at Sun, and pulls a short-sword from the hilt at the small of his back to slash at Sun. Riposting the blade away from his shin is simple. Sending it flying from the angry Faunus' grasp with a twist and flick after blocking just as easy. He slams the butt of his staff into the downed terrorist three times, breaking his aura and knocking him out, and is about to move to get a better view of the situation when a familiar presence falls into a ready stance beside him. "That's a lot of Grimm." Neptune observes, voice bleak.

Sun glances around the square and winces. "And a lot of White Fang."

_-*R-DxD*-_

"Dude, this sucks." Russel bitches from behind Cardin.

His teammate had been idly playing with one of Shortwings since they'd met up with their 'Pro' at Four-oh-freaking-clock in the morning, and would probably be at it until they finally get sent back to Beacon this evening. For the second time in as many days. Russel spins the unsheathed dagger on his palm, again, then rolls it across his fingers before tossing the blade up to snatch it out of the air with his other hand. "I mean, is this just something that the Kingdom came up with to make retired Huntsmen feel useful?"

Cardin wants to let out a groan. He should have moved to shut his partner up sooner. "Now, just because the creatures of Grimm we've dispatched are no threat to you strapping young lads doesn't mean that they pose no threat to anyone." The suit-clad midget of an octogenarian drawls over his shoulder. He flexes his hands, and Cardin can barely make out something cutting through the air, and another fucking pigeon-sized nevermore drops out of a nearby tree in three separate pieces.

Okay, so he's still decent with that wire-rig of his. And Huntsmen just don't live to eighty normally. He should be paying attention, or trying to learn from him. But Suriel had picked this mission then promptly hit the old codger with an illusion and fucked off to see to 'more important matters'. So the voice in Cardin's head shouting for him to learn every last scrap he can from the venerable Huntsman is nowhere near loud enough to pierce the veil of his, okay, he isn't really sure how he's feeling. Just that he doesn't like the way his life's been going since his Master had replaced one of his teammates and wrestled the role of leader from him in all but name.

And with the black-winged bastard–no, his Master–gone, he feels safe enough to actually think those thoughts. A black form darts from the gutter, and another Skitter–Ugh,seriously, rat Grimm?–dies headless. Dove lets out a low groan "Fine, fine, kids and old fogies are in danger, and that's pretty much all you can find in this park. Why does Beacon have us following you dealing with these, nuisances?"

The corduroy suit-jacket and scally cap clad wrinkled old man shakes his head at that "Honestly, how long do you think the retirees doing this last? Someone has to know where to look to keep the Grimm vermin in check. Or would you rather be stuck on the wall or out in the Emerald Forest constantly dealing with waves of Grimm homing in on the city because another kindergarten class was wiped out by half a dozen Nevermore that had been hiding in with some crows by their school's playground? Hmm?"

Russel and Dove both grumble at that, but at least they shut the hell up otherwise. The next half hour goes pretty much the same. A handful of pitiful little Grimm most Huntsmen wouldn't lower themselves to worry about, all dealt with before Cardin even has a chance to pick out of the bushes, trees, garbage cans or whatever the hell else they had been lurking in. They'd also made it most of the way through the most recent park they'd been watching get de-Grimmed while trying–and failing–to sneak in a shot edgewise. Cardin is just about fed up enough with the silence again to ask if its only old fucks they con into wasting their retirement doing shit like this, or if cripples get their share of the thrills, when a thunderous explosion sets his ears ringing, followed by a shockwave that has the old man bouncing off his armor.

He doesn't take that much longer than Cardin's team to recover, dusting off the seat of his pants and straightening his jacket as all four turn to look off to their left. Cardin looks down at the old man, and is kind of surprised to see an eager gleam in his eyes. Figures. "I take it this is the part where you shock my whole team by running off towards whatever the hell caused that and handling it single-handedly?" He drawls, not bothering to hide the derision in his voice.

The shrunken old man snorts out a laugh at that "Who, me? Merciful Brothers, no! Its been half a decade since those bastards forced me to retire, and I'm not doing anything more strenuous than these stupid park walks without having the pencil-pushers at the Capitol who forced me to begging down on their hands and knees for me to get off my duff to save them first."

Russel blinks at the old man in confusion "Isn't retirement at, umm, sixty?" The retiree nods, the wild tufts of gray hair sticking out from under his cap bobbing as he does so.

"And you're, more than that." Dove dumbly notes. Really, Cardin needs to find a way to get Suriel to back off and let the guy heal up properly. He just hasn't been quite the same since he got slammed into that wall a month ago.

The geezer grins up at him "Eighty eight years mighty."

"Mighty?"

Still grinning, the old man taps his foot, and all Cardin can hear is, nothing. "ATTENTION ALL CIVILIANS," the old man drawls, and that is the only noise reaching Cardins ears as the little oldster cups his hands in front of his mouth. "THERE IS A TRIAGE AND CARE CENTER BEING ESTABLISHED AT THE SNO TREPHUS MEMORIAL PARK. REMAIN CALM AND PROCEED TO THE SNO TREPHUS MEMORIAL PARK IF YOU HAVE BEEN INJURED, OR ARE MOVING SOMEONE WHO HAS BEEN." The old man taps his foot again, and the tonal, all encompassing solidity of his voice fades away to screams, and the din of battle, and the Breach siren. And the old man is grinning "Your Semblance only stops developing if you stop training it, boys. Now get a move on, you've got plenty of energy all bottled up waiting to be burned by now I'd wager."

Not really sure what to make of that, Cardin just nods, and starts running towards the plume of smoke rising in the distance. Dove and Russel both follow behind him, weapons drawn and looking eager. After a few blocks they start to pass screaming, panicked civilians, some just looking scared. Others are limping, or clutching bloody wounds.

Another block after they start seeing hurt and panicked people fleeing from whatever the hell is happening, they run into their first Grimm. Cardin already has The Executioner off of his shoulder by that point. He lets it trail behind him, lowly for a few steps. When he gets close enough to the lone Creep, he puts all of his strength into an upwards swing. He connects with the Grimm moments before running past the pathetic bipedal Grimm, and sends it flying, wisps of black smoke trailing behind it.

The Grimm crashes to the ground at the next intersection moments before his team reaches it. Not long after that, they are accosted by a stench that he really doesn't have any words to describe. Not long after, that bottle-blonde shrimp–Ryse–and his second team barrel into the intersection. "Brothers, what the hell happened to you four?" Russel asks while Cardin moves to plug his nose.

"Our idiot of a leader took stupid advice is what happened to us." The animal gripes, his bright purple mohawk matted down with, something stinking, and the talons extending down from his legs tapping irritably.

The darker skinned chick cracks a grin despite being more or less covered in the same filth as the rest of her team. She rests what looks like the bastard child of a javelin and a battle axe on her shoulder, mirroring Cardin's own preferred resting stance with her hip cocked out and free hand planted on it accentuating the blend of curve and muscle she's got that'd absolutely be driving him to distraction with her crop-top and tight jeans if they weren't in a combat situation. He's spent more than a few boring Combat Classes ogling her and daydreaming. Not quite as dark skinned or curvy as that Emerald bitch, bu– "Where's your pro?" Dove asks, snapping Cardin out of his own head before he could make an idiot out of himself.

Ryse shrugs. "Using his Semblance to keep the Sewers and Old Subway from turning into one big sinkhole. Sent us to deal with whatever tried to blow up the Old Subway, or crawled up out of it afterwards."

Before anyone can further comment, the bark of gunfire, a few rounds pinging off of Cardins armor, and one snapping the bird Faunus head to the side with a flash of green aura. The seven teens turn to spot a gaggle of white-uniformed, mask-clad, Faunus. "Oh, it's those bastards." The rooster? Hawk? Whatever, the student animal deadpans before shouldering his rifle-axe and starts returning fire.

At least they know who is behind this bullshit now. Just gotta push through them and get to the hole in the ground to seal shit up.

_-*R-DxD*-_

Coco takes a deep, refreshing breath of the early fall air as she leads her team through one of downtown Vale's many shopping districts.

After spending most of yesterday hunched over tables in the Armory yesterday working on their weapons yesterday, and this morning, she figures they deserve the break. "Ahh, just what the doctor ordered." She crows to her team, interlacing her fingers above her head, leaning over towards Velvet and stretching everything from her waist up.

The bun pouts up at her. "I don't know what you're talking about. You've done nothing but slack off since we got back into Vale."

She glances at the cutie. "I don't know what you're talking about, Vel. I got our laundry taken care of, organized cleaning our dorm and made sure we got our gear back into top shape before the last stretch of time to train for the Vytal Tournament. All of that after leading us on another successful Grimm hunt."

Yats casts a deadpan gaze over Velvet's head at her. "Professor Peach was leading the mission." Coco relaxes out of her stretch. More than a little glad that the sidewalk is abandoned enough that they have more room than is usual. She really is still kind of sore from the rough mission they'd just got back from.

She lets her shades slide down her nose as she play-glares back at the gentle giant. "She only stepped in when things got, ya know, bad. I was running the show for most of it."

"And you tricked the TA into making half of your new rounds for Gianduja." Velvet tacks on, squinting up at Coco, ears twitching playfully.

Coco shakes her head. Lilac really is a sweetheart, but she's a complete pushover on anything not related to Shop Safety. "I would never! Miss Shang is just following in Old Man Redd's footsteps. Always helping out students in need."

/And it's just coincidence that you only ever press fresh rounds when it's her weekend to watch the Armory so students can use it?/ Fox's voice echoes in their heads. Coco almost winces. At his implied accusation. Almost. If Fox wasn't being rhetorical she'd tell him that she picks those weekends to top up on ammo because their tomboy of a TA looks adorable covered in grease. It's the truth, and Fox probably wouldn't call her out on it. /As to wandering Vale aimlessly after such a rough mission, I doubt that Doctor Tsune or Doctor Ivory would approve./

Yats nods. "And with the laundry to the cleaning, all you really did was delegate."

Velvet points at Yatsuhashi with Anedesoria, they hadn't seen many other Huntsmen or Huntresses since they started their afternoon out, but it never hurts Velvet to be ready. "You make a good point. Coco's been slacking off awfully often this week.

She shoots a playful glare at the tease of a bunny. "Hey, I was immobilized during the laundry and did my fair share of the cleaning!"

Fox smirks as a pair of brats probably playing hooky dart through the quartet of Beacon students chattering and laughing. /She might not be good for much else, but at least our leader makes for a good pillow./ He teases.

Yup, just what the doctor ordered.

Coco staggers dramatically, clutching both hands over her heart. "Just cut my heart out instead the next time you three feel like ripping into me like this. I wouldn't have to suffer so much that way!" She groans a bit loudly, a married couple strolling down the opposite side of the street shooting her a pair of glares for the disturbance. Eyes shielded by distance and tasteful accessories, she rolls them at the prissy judgmental attitudes of the civilians. Yats looks ready to add something else, when a roaring blast not too far off cuts him off, and has all of them turning towards the disturbance.

Before anyone can say anything, an ugly plume of smoke starts to rise up from a few blocks over. "That was probably nothing we need to worry about, right?" All three of her teammates turn to look at her at that, but Coco isn't spineless.

The thrumming, keening, wailing Breach alarm flares to life. Fox winces and puts a hand to his ear. Yats cocks an eyebrow.

Velvet does that thing with her lower lip when she'd pouting that Coco knows that Velvet knows Coco cant say no to.

She sighs, pulls her scroll from her pocket, and with a trio of taps has their rocket lockers headed towards them. So much for a proper day of downtime. It doesn't take too long for the rocket lockers to touch down on the sidewalk. Thanks to Beacon's–frankly ridiculous–elevation most of their flight-time within the kingdom is the downward half of a parabolic arc.

She and her teammates quickly arm themselves and start sprinting towards whatever had caused Grimm to get loose inside the kingdom. They barrel around a corner, fleeing, panicking, screaming civilians parting around them. Fox and Velvet both leap ahead of them, Fox shredding through Grimm indiscriminately with the blades on his arms, and Velvet bouncing from monster to monster on aura-enhanced punches and kicks.

Yats sprints over to deal with a blood-soaked Ursa, a scowl on his face while Coco takes quick stock of the situation. She's about to start dealing with aerial Grimm, when a sky blue and green striped bullhead-older but customized-streaks past, bifurcating one Nevermore and de-winging a second. She looks back to the quickly emptying market square just in time to see a truly massive Alpha Beowolf smash through a clothing boutique. Honestly, nearly everything they offer is trashy or gaudy, the chain's existence is a crime against fashion, and Vale is better off with one less location peddling their garbage.

Unfortunately, she has contractual obligations, and there are some people with more balls than common sense standing around recording still. She saunters towards the hulking beast, batting aside Boarbatusks and Creeps with Gianduja's compact form. Seething, and probably holding the Grimm's attention with that spike of negativity she walks right up to the thing's bellybutton–eugh–and lowers her sunglasses to glare at the Grimm. Channeling all of her hatred for her agency and agent at the monster, she calmly quips "You just destroyed my favorite clothing store." So stupid. "Prepare to die!" At that, she deploys her minigun and rips the fucker in half with a torrent of shells.

She then turns back to the bulk of the square and starts letting loose bursts of fire, being careful to not hit any of the other Huntsmen, or civilians. With the stupid, impromptu photo-op done, she can actually get to work now.

_-*R-DxD*-_

-Menagerie-

The chamber beneath the White Fang headquarters is familiar by now. He blinks the soreness away from his new eyes.

How many times has it been now… That he's died?

The chamber seems, brighter. More vibrant, than it had last time. The chanting isn't just, sonorous background noise. Each individual voice is clear to him now. He sits up, and feels, not lighter or heavier, but more somehow. He looks down towards the foot of the cairn he found himself on once again. A pile of ashes is at the left corner of the stone slab, a heart, still vibrantly red but perfectly dry at its center, and a second heart, this one the color and visual texture of old, dry-rotted leather.

Off to his left, another cairn, this one with only two hearts at its foot starts to glow. The hearts, both fresh and dripping blood burst into a rainbow of flames as the chanting of a handful of the voices echoing from the perimeter of the chamber begin to crescendo.

A heavy presence off to his right draws his attention. Reflexively, he twists around, rising to a crouch, hand falling into a guard. Huh, the after-image is new. Not much of one, but-

"Rise, my Childe."

He freezes, before darting to the floor to prostate himself. A deep, resonant chuckle compels him to look up. Standing nearly eight feet, broad shouldered and bare chested. A jagged scar crosses his heart, and an even more ragged x shaped scar across his stomach. His loose fitting brown leather trousers are held up by a chain belt made of gold and obsidian links. A cloak of vibrant blue and green and red and yellow feathers is resting on his shoulders, held together by a thin golden chain and nearly brushing the ground. His wavy black hair falling to the small of his back, held out of his face by a polished bone circlet. Clean shaven face smirking down at him, impossibly green pentagonal eyes twinkling down at him with amusement and...pride? "I said rise, Childe. Not kneel." The booming sound of mirth reverberating out again.

He complies, warily stepping back from his God as he finds his feet again. Serpentine slit-eyes tracking him as he does so. "To what do I owe this honor, Lord Quetzalcoatl?"

The new God of the Faunus chuckles for a third time, the deep sound of it rumbling through the newly reborn Faunus' bones. "Tell me, how many times have you awoken in this chamber?" He begins walking towards one of the side doors, not the main entrance that Priests and Priestess enter through, or the one through which the reborn leave.

"Five, I think, Your Grace. I have willingly given my life five times in your service." He answers honestly, doing his best to remain calm, fighting to not cover his nakedness.

The holy men and women never like that.

The God shifts to look back at him, surprise and pleasure to be found in equal measure on his face. He caresses one of the obsidian long-knives hanging from his hips. They'd be short-swords to a more normally sized being. The God then squints at him. "Hmm. It would seem that the ones who caused your demise are closely tied to the fate of this word. Good. It sped things along nicely." The God pauses to push aside a stone slab, and hold it for him. "And you did not die, Childe. My ritual does not return you from the dead. Rather, the servants of mine who have true faith, and strive for greatness and service are spirited to this paltry chamber before taking their last breath. Each time becoming less Faunus and more what I need."

"My-my Lord?" He asks, the dread specter of treachery clenching his heart for a moment before he stamps down on it brutally. Lord Quetzalcoatl has not led them astray since High Priest Taurus brought them to His faith.

He would not betray them now.

The God takes a pair of leather trousers from a shelf and tosses them at him. He quickly steps into them. "Tell me, what is your name, Childe?"

He blinks in confusion. "I am Tere–"

"No, not the simple thing your progenitors gave you. The Name your brothers and sisters gifted you through your service to me, carved into your soul with blood and toil."

"Banesaw, Your Grace." He answers plainly, too confused and overawed to do much more than that.

The God ambles over to a rack of animal pelts, humming to himself as he leafs through them. "I am not the only God, nor is Remnant the only world in creation, Childe of Mine. For us to stand against the other deities and powers in truth, I require servants whose lives span centuries, with powers greater than those of mere mortals. Powers that have not yet made themselves readily apparent. Tell me, does anything feel... different, since you woke in the chamber?"

"My senses are keener. I feel... more, somehow. And then, there's..." Not sure how to describe it, he slices his hand through the air as quickly as he can, and the afterimage is long and plain to see. The revelation of other gods and worlds barely gives him any shock. After all he's experienced so far serving the great Quetzalcoatl, he's ready to believe anything his Lord says without question.

Lord Quetzalcoatl selects an inky black pelt, and hands it to him. "I see. Already your soul is greater, and less tied to your physical form. Soon, one, perhaps two more cycles through the ritual and you shall truly ascend." He nods at the pelt, and motions to Banesaw's shoulders. He complies, draping the pelt across his back, and hooking the clasps under the paws and set into the pelt at his shoulders, fur and leather covering his neck as the limbs cross over to hold it up. "The panther, for your might in battle and prowess at subversive action."

Banesaw blinks, still confused, and somehow still feeling naked without his mask despite being freshly clothed. "Thank you, my Lord?" He's still off-balance, despite having acclimated, mostly, to the physical differences between his new and old bodies. The process is odd, he supposes. A smaller part of him was grateful that the process is not painful, he doubts actually dying would be a pleasant experience.

"My gifts should accelerate the final stages of your ascension." His Lord adds, plunging his hand into a roiling, churning vat that hurts his eyes to look at. He draws out a massive, wide and narrow slab of granite. A pulse of umber light flares down his broad arms and along the stone, which crumbles away to reveal a wide, narrow bat, with jagged shards of obsidian still bearing that light protruding from its sides. It's about the same size his chainsaw had been. The God hands him the weapon. "As will the time when this place is a proper temple standing under the light of the sun, with the Chanters no longer corporeal, simply tied to the place where the ritual is performed at a place of worship. Soon, we shall move openly on our island home. Soon, the Heretic Chieftain will be cast down, so that one of True Faith can be raised in his place."

Banesaw hefts his new weapon, and feels a feral grin slide across his face. "I eagerly await that day, my Lord, and will be happy to spill blood to see it made manifest."

When did he start talking like this? When did he stop caring?

"Truly, I appreciate your zeal." Divine eyes favor him with an amused glance. " And your continued worship is as pleasing as it is sustaining and empowering for me. However, your task is a different one. The Chieftain has decided, perhaps foolishly close to the day of our glory, to send an envoy to the Vytal Festival. To once again attempt to press the nations we shall soon set ablaze to recognize this island prison as their peer on the global stage. His wife intends to lead these efforts."

The burly Faunus, or whatever it is he has become or is becoming blinks in confusion. "So close to the Festival? It'll be over by the time she gets there."

His Lord smirks, before reaching behind him to a table loaded down with bones. Another flash of light, this time vibrant yellow, and a near perfect copy of his old mask. He passes it along his cloak, and a cowl of feathers affix themselves to it. The vibrant red markings are angry, angular and tribal, and a perfect match for those running up the length of his new weapon, Zealous Servant feels like the right name. He accepts the mask, and tugs at the cowl extending from its top and sides so that it rests evenly along the back of his skull, the bottom feathers tickling the base of his neck.

Lord Quetzalcoatl elucidates. "By boat, perhaps. The Belladonnas repaired the old airship that was left here with the first exiles sent to this gilded cage. That flight will take mere hours, and you, along with the others close to ascension like you, will replace crew and passengers alike. You will stiffen the resolve and faith of your brothers and sisters in Vale upon arrival. You will lend them your strength in what is to come, so that all Faunuskind will accept me, my blessings, and my plan when the day I have promised you arrives. When you return, be it bathed in glory or blood, the final steps for openly taking this island as my own will be upon us, and glory not far behind. Go, Childe, and serve me well."

Bowing almost at the knee, Banesaw about-faces and strides from the room prepared and eager to do his duty.

---

And so begins the Breach. Also, for those of you keeping score, this will be the last time team RWBY is 'doing canon offscreen'.

A huge shoutout to me Beta Readers MasterPrince713 and Hybrid Theory. This fic wouldnt be nearly as good as it has been without them.

Love it? Hate it? Just put your fist through the wall and tore out some live wiring? Drop me a review, those things are my rocket fuel!